Vow of the Shadow King (Bride of the Shadow King Book 2)

With a sharp intake of air, the witch comes out of her trance and staggers backward several paces. She shakes her head, recovers her balance, then immediately leaps forward and closes Faraine’s eyes. The strange other-light shines through her lids for a moment longer, but when the witch snatches the crystals off her chest, that dims as well. The tension leaves her body. Soon Faraine lies lifeless and limp once more.

“What happened?” I demand, crouched protectively over her. I lift my head, glare up at the witch. “What did you do?”

She self-consciously pulls her hood back into place, obscuring what little of her face had been revealed. “I just had a chat with your pretty bride. You were right—her spirit is not far. And she’s willing to attempt reconnection to her body.”

The possibility that she might not be willing hadn’t occurred to me until this moment. My gaze shoots down to her immobile face. More and more she does not look asleep but truly gone. Truly dead. “Very well,” I say, my voice ragged and rough. “Let’s get on with it then. Do what you must.”

“Not so fast.” The woman presses her cane heavily into the ground, leans her full weight upon it. Whatever magic she just performed has sapped her strength. “While the girl may be willing, that doesn’t mean it will actually work. And the process will be unpleasant.”

A shiver creeps down my spine. “How? How is it done?”

Prying one hand from her cane, the witch points to the tall mountain across the valley, opposite her hut. “There,” she says. “At the base of that mountain lies a wild pool surrounded by fire lilies. It is a sacred place, a gateway of sorts, between this world and the quinsatra, the realm of magic. It’s located directly above the Urzulhar Circle and channels the energies of those stones. When the moon reaches the zenith of the sky and fills the waters with light, you must enter and stand in the center. Then, you and she must go under. Both of you must remain submerged until the moment you feel life restored. If you rise too soon, she will perish. Too late, and you both will. Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course.” I frown, certain this cannot be all. It’s too easy. If it were indeed this simple, people would be reanimating their loved ones all the time. “What of the price? I know enough of magic. There must be a price.”

“There is.” The witch leans on her staff again, the one visible corner of her mouth twitching. “But you’ll not learn what it is until it’s too late to unmake your bargain. Have a care, great King! Do not enter the water if you are not prepared to give what the magic demands.”

A life for a life. What else can she mean? All of existence depends on balance and harmonies. Surely there can be no other answer. I gaze down at Faraine’s still face again. I would gladly die for her if I could, but . . . will I abandon my city? At its most vulnerable? The weight of that choice could break me in two.

“You haven’t much time.” The witch’s voice draws my gaze sharply back to her hooded face. “Moonrise is coming. If you must dither, dither on your way. Otherwise, the decision will be made for you. She cannot hold on much longer.”

I nod and gather Faraine in my arms once more. She feels lighter than before, a mere feather which the slightest breeze might yank from my hold and drag her into that horrible, endless sky. Shuddering, I turn to mount Knar.

“Wait.”

I stop. Look back.

“You’ve not yet offered payment.”

The witch’s words ring in my ears. I do not answer. Cannot answer.

She steps toward me, slowly. Her body quakes, still rocked by the effort of magic she’d worked. Her necklace of crystals clatters and glints in the starlight. When she stands only a pace or two away from me, she stops.

My throat tightens. “What payment do you require of me?”

Lifting one hand from her cane, she pulls back the heavy hood, revealing an old, wrinkled face. Slowly, she turns it up to me, her golden eyes like two shining gems in the night. She smiles slowly. “A kiss. Only a kiss. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Her eyelids fall delicately. She tilts her head to one side, offers up a wrinkled cheek.

I hesitate. Long ago word was brought to me of the witch’s existence, of her presence so near in the World Above. I’d received the word, acknowledged it. Then done everything in my power to forget.

I’d sworn I’d never come to this place.

I’d sworn I’d never see her, never speak to her.

This? This is far worse. To embrace her. As though nothing had ever happened between us.

“Please, Vor,” the witch says, her eyes still closed. “Just one little kiss. For your old mother.”

My stomach knots.

Then, with a quick inhale of breath, I bend, brush my lips against her cheek.

The next moment, I’m pounding down the path, back to where Knar waits. Soon I’m in the saddle, Faraine pressed close to my breast. Without a backwards glance, I drive my spurs into the morleth’s flanks. “Jah!” I cry.

Knar leaps to the sky and speeds across the darkness.

The moon is rising. We haven’t much time.

The vastness of that terrible sky threatens to swallow up my sanity. I focus my gaze on our destination up ahead, determined not to forget my purpose and sink into jabbering madness. For all I know, it’s already too late. For all I know, the last threads of life keeping Faraine’s spirit close have already severed. But I must try. I must strive till the last of my strength gives way.

“Hold on, Faraine,” I whisper against her hair. “Just a little longer now. Hold on.”

The pool is readily visible under moonlight, even at a distance. The smooth clear waters gleam silver, surrounded by red fire lilies, just as Mother described. I guide Knar down, circling lower and lower until his feet prance just inches above the ground. I adjust my grip on Faraine, press her head to my shoulder as I slide from the saddle and stagger to the pool. Collapsing on my knees before it, I stare down into the dark water. There lies a perfect reflection of the terrible sky overhead.

Something resonates from below. I can’t explain it. It’s not unlike the crystal songs of the gujek minstrels. But deeper. Like the voice of the earth itself, echoing from below.

The moon glides higher and higher. It casts silvery light over the grass, the flowers. Nearby trees throw shivering shadows, like fingers rippling on the surface of the pool. I look down into Faraine’s face, bathed in moonlight. She’s so beautiful in my eyes. So strong, so brave. Dauntless in the face of every danger, a queen of true dignity and grace.

She is everything to me.

I would give everything for her.

Slowly, I slip into the pool. Find my footing, ease into that cold dark water. Her hair trails over my arm and drags behind us as I carry her to the center. There the water is deep, up to my chest. I angle her carefully to keep from letting her go under too soon. The moon climbs high. It hovers almost directly over us now.

“I give it all, Faraine,” I whisper, my mouth against her soft hair. “My heart. My life. Come what may, I am yours.”

A life for a life?

So be it.

I throw my head back and roar to the dreadful heavens, declare before all the gods: “Whatever the price, I will pay it! Let it fall on me!”

Then, holding her tight, I tip over backwards. Black water closes over our heads.